


Trick Or Treat

by acheaptrickandacheesyoneline



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: College AU, F/M, Gen, Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 18:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8412127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acheaptrickandacheesyoneline/pseuds/acheaptrickandacheesyoneline
Summary: Two responses to the prompts leviosaphoenix sent me for the wonderful Halloween Fic Exchange she put together with thatmasquedgirlA trick, and a treat. Both featuring Oliver and Felicity, but two entirely different stories.





	1. Trick

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to leviosaphoenix and thatmasqued girl for spearheading this fun exchange. I really enjoyed both prompts. 
> 
> Also, thank you to dettiot and adiwriting for their work in helping me make this first fic even more nerve-wracking.

He was in the Foundry when his phone rang. The shrill digital ring cut through his thoughts and made Oliver rush to the table to answer it if only to make the ringing stop. Felicity’s face and name were on the screen and he swiped at the call answer button. 

 

“Felicity, hey. Is everything okay?”

 

Her larger than life personality came as a small voice through the speaker. “Digg is still watching my place, right?

 

“Normally, yes,” he said, carefully. “He and I are both worried about Wilson coming after you.”

 

“What do you mean by ‘normally’,” she asked him. 

 

There was a tremor in her voice, a sign of fear that Oliver quickly honed in on. “Talk to me, Felicity. What’s wrong?” He was already sliding his jacket over his arms and walking to his Ducati before he finished his sentence. It took a lot to rattle Felicity, so if she was afraid, something was very bad. He could already feel his heart beginning to race and he struggled to keep his breathing even. If there was a way that he could run to her fast enough, he would have taken off by now.

 

Helmet. He needed his helmet. He looked about frantically for a moment before lunging to the table it sat on.

 

“I thought I saw someone outside, and I freaked a moment. I was already calling you when I remembered that Digg was on self-imposed guard duty.”

 

Shit, Oliver thought. Slade was probably already there, casing her apartment for an unnoticeable way inside. He had even less time than he might have originally thought in order to get her to safety. “John left town with Lyla this evening,” he told her, working to keep his voice calm. He didn’t need her to pick up on the worry that he was feeling. “Keep away from the windows. And stay on the phone with me until I get there.” Oliver fumbled in his pocket for his bluetooth headset so he could keep talking with her even with his helmet on. “I will be there in ten minutes.” 

 

“It’s a twenty minute trip from there, Oliver.”

 

“Ten minutes,” he repeated before kicking his bike into gear. He had to get there, had to make sure Wilson wasn’t there ready to grab her just because she was connected to him. 

 

“I um… I went out grocery shopping after I left QC today,” Felicity said in his ear.

 

“Good, that’s good. Talk to me, Felicity. What did you buy?” He kept his voice pitched low, calming. He didn’t need her working herself up over how afraid he was for her. 

 

“Bananas. I needed them for a smoothie I want to try for breakfast tomorrow. Quicker to eat on the go, you know?”

 

He did know. It was why he had protein bars in his suit pockets. Both leather and business. “If you add in kale, it will make it healthier.”

 

She laughed, but it felt forced, fake. It came out at a higher pitch than he was used to hearing from her and he bit back a demand that she tell him what she saw outside. He didn’t know how much time he was going to have before whoever out there decided to take action, and if they saw her looking for them, the might decide to attack sooner rather than later. “I don’t think anyone actually likes kale, Oliver.”

 

He could feel the muscles in his back tightening in preparation for a fight and he worked to keep his body loose as he took curves so sharply that his footpegs scraped the road. Even the scenery took on a more than normal blur as he focused on getting to Felicity’s apartment building as fast as possible. It still wasn’t going to be fast enough.

 

“I remember thinking that about broccoli when I was young. Raisa must have tried a hundred different ways to prepare it before I found one that I liked.” The memory was soothing and it calmed his suddenly skyrocketed pulse when he narrowly avoided being hit by a car, the horn blaring as the driver leaned on it.

 

“Are you okay?” he heard Felicity gasp out. Why was she worried about him when there might be someone outside of her place?

 

“Fine.” His answer was sharp and he regretted snapping at her the moment after he did. “Keep talking, I’m fine.”

 

Oliver cut through two alleyways and went the wrong way on a--thankfully empty-- one way street, briefly cursing city planners due to how convoluted the roads got the further out from the center of the city they got. No wonder jumping along rooftops was faster than the asphalt maze when he needed to get to a place.

 

“I wish that I was better at cooking than I actually am. I would love to make really chocolatey brownies right now. Or maybe some of those break and bake cookies. Then eat them with mint chip ice cream.”

 

He heard her breathing pick up, and a clatter of noises in the background of her call. “Felicity? Are you okay?”

 

“Do you like mint ch---”

 

His call with Felicity ended.

 

It had only been six and a half minutes since he had left the Foundry; he was still five minutes away.

 

He stopped briefly on the shoulder to pull out his phone and confirmed that it still had a charge. It did. At the top of his recent calls list, he tapped Felicity’s name and waited. It never rang, instead going straight to her voicemail.

 

Good news: his phone and bluetooth were working fine.

 

Bad news: everything else in that moment.

 

He hit her number again as he sped off from where he had stopped, intent on reaching her apartment even faster. “Дерьмо. дерьмо. дерьмо,” he repeated under his breath when it went to voicemail again. He should have been there tonight with Diggle out of town. His former bodyguard had offered to keep watch on Felicity again as he had the night before, but Oliver had waved him off. There had been no sign of Slade in a few days, so he had thought that it would be enough if he did a few patrols of the city, that it would be okay to leave Felicity unguarded for at least part of a night.

 

He should have told her to just stay in the foundry with him until his sweeps were done. Or better yet, spend the night there. It was safe, and then neither of them would have had to worry. He knew that she was afraid of Deathstroke; only a moron wouldn’t be. She had also been firm about not wanting to be coddled or smothered or protected just because Slade was in town. 

 

Braking hard, he pounded at his handlebar in frustration at the sudden stop of traffic on the street. He was losing time. If Slade was there, he could already have her, already be holding a blade at her throat, waiting to cut it until Oliver was there so he could see her die. He knew he didn’t have a chance at beating the mirakuru enhanced man, but if he could at least be there, he should be able to keep Deathstroke busy long enough for Felicity to get out, to get away and hide.

 

If she would actually hide. He ruefully shook his head and focused on weaving between the cars that were slowly crawling forward towards the traffic lights ahead. He knew there was another alley to the left up ahead, and it would take him most of the way towards Felicity’s apartment complex. 

 

If he could just get through all the goddamned traffic.

 

Once in the alley, he revved his engine and took off. As long as no one was backing their car out, he should be safe enough. He took the turn into the parking lot of Felicity’s complex too fast and the back end of the motorcycle began to skid out over the gravel at the side. Thankfully he was able to stand the bike back up before he had to lay it down to avoid a worse accident.

 

Oliver took the first empty spot he saw, ignoring the striped lines. The kickstand had barely touched ground before he had torn off his helmet and was racing up the sidewalk to Felicity’s door.

 

He was praying to a God he wasn’t sure he believed in when he tried the doorknob, hoping it was locked. It turned easily under his hand and the door swung open, no security chain stopping it. He and Digg had impressed the absolute need to have her door locked while Deathstroke was at large. It wouldn’t slow him down, but it would also let neighbors see if someone was trying to break in.

 

Nothing seemed out of place as he quickly took in her apartment. The TV was on, an episode of something paused. A fleece blanket was draped over the arm of the sofa, and a still steaming mug of something was on the side table. The light above the stove was on, a few dishes in the sink. Two pots were on the floor in front of a cabinet door, and there was a cookie sheet on the table. There was nothing indicating a struggle or a forced entry. At least not from this entrance point. 

 

Oliver moved quickly from the door, keeping low to the ground. As much as he wanted to call out for Felicity, to reassure himself that she was okay, he couldn’t risk Wilson knowing that he was here. He crossed into the kitchen and down the hall, straining senses in an attempt to figure out where Felicity and Slade might be. 

 

He heard the sound of quiet voices down the hallway off the kitchen and he instantly felt himself go on high alert. Time seemed to slow down and all of his senses became sharper than normal, like when he was out in the city in his leathers. He could see light from the cracked door at the end of the hall, and the voice became louder the closer he came. 

 

“Idiot, that’s what you are, Felicity.”

 

It was her voice. 

 

She was still alive.

 

Passion and emotion took over from logic and Oliver rushed the door, flinging it open, ready to tackle Slade to the ground.

 

Instead he got a surprised yelp and an accidental fist to his gut. 

 

“Oh my God, Oliver! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was you!”

 

Rubbing at his stomach, he took in her appearance. She didn’t look hurt in any way. Perhaps a bit on edge, but considering how he had just burst in, that was unsurprising. “You’re okay?” he asked hesitantly. 

 

“Aside from jumping higher than Jurassic Park ever made me jump, yes.”

 

Before he could stop himself, he placed his hands on her shoulders. Without heels, she was so much shorter than him. He forgot that sometimes, with how confidently she carried herself as his EA and his eyes and ears in the field. “You’re okay,” he breathed out again, a statement of fact rather than a question. 

 

“I’m okay,” she repeated, lifting a hand to cover his. 

 

The jolt of contact startled him and Oliver quickly pulled away. “What happened? I heard a crash, then the call ended. I couldn’t get ahold of you. I thought that Slade had…” He couldn’t voice his thoughts, but knew that Felicity understood him when she blanched.

 

“Oh!” Her eyes were wide. “No, my phone died and I had to find my stupid charger. I left my everyday one in the Arrowcave and was trying to find my backup charger.”

 

“And the noises?” he pressed. She had been so scared before on the phone with him. What had changed? Had someone gotten to her, blackmailed her into telling him she was fine so he would drop his guard, be vulnerable to attack?

 

“I was pulling out the cookie sheets to make some of my tub of cookie dough into cookies,” she admitted after a second. “Nothing goes better with Mint Chip than chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven.” 

 

The muscles between his shoulders began to relax as the adrenaline slowly left him. Oliver felt drained in a way he hadn’t since some of his earliest days on the streets. “I thought that Slade was here,” he told her, running a hand through his hair. “When the call cut out, and I went straight to voice mail, I was sure that I was coming here to find him having taken you.”

 

Felicity sunk to her bed with a sigh. Oliver tried not to notice how the bright bedspread looked beneath her pj pants and tank top. “I thought it was Slade at first too. Turns out it was some teenages who decided that TP-ing the complex was a great idea for Halloween.” She looked up from her lap and gave him a small smile. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

 

“Felicity, I will always worry about you,” he admitted. Oliver wasn’t sure where that confession had come from, but the way it made her face brighten up in mock anger made it all worth it. 

 

“I can worry about myself.”

 

“With our night jobs, I’m sure there’s enough worry to go around.”

 

“Even with just QC and Isabel,” she muttered. Oliver huffed out a small laugh as she stood up. “I feel bad for making you race all the way over here for what turned out to be nothing.”

 

“Don’t be. I’ll always come for you.” Oliver followed her from the bedroom, breathing easily for what felt like the first time since he had gotten her panicked phone call. He rubbed his fingers against his thumb at he took in a deep breath.

 

There was more on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say. To remind her of what he had told her after Clock-king: she would always be his girl. 

 

Telling her that, admitting his feelings for her, would just paint an even larger target on her back for Slade. 

 

So Oliver swallowed the words with a knot in his throat and put on a mask. “You’re part of Team Arrow after all.”


	2. Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the reverse to the menacing trick that last chapter was. Have a fluffy Halloween College AU Treat!

Halloween in Boston was a lot different than Halloween in Vegas. The colder temperatures didn’t seem to limit the amount of skin most of the costumed co-eds were showing. But it wasn’t just the weather or the costumes, Felicity determined. What was probably the biggest difference for her was that the crazy Halloween party happening at the frat house next door was just like a normal Saturday night back home. It was easy to to block out the noise and the drunken singing right outside.

 

The voice of reason in the back of her head told her, again, how she should have done research into the house she was renting a room at before moving in. A short walk onto campus, and cheap? She should have known it was too good to not have an issue. Mainly, that it was the only non-Greek house on Frat Row. She was certain she would not have signed the lease for a year if she had known that at the time.

 

Parties every other night, police cruisers stopping by after calls for drunk and disorderly conduct…

 

If she had only waited to break up with Cooper until she had actually found a new place to live, she wouldn’t be stuck here now. Of course, after she had walked in on another woman walking out of his room--wearing his shirt and nothing else--Felicity had turned around and called Cait and Iris. While Cait’s boyfriend Ronnie had kept Cooper pinned with his glare, Barry, Iris, Caitlin and Felicity had quickly packed up her belongings and left.

 

A Room for Rent sign was on the door of her current place when they had passed by in Barry’s car. Desperate to not live on a couch for the semester Felicity had jumped at the room, and what had seemed, at the time, a great deal.

 

The one good thing about it was that at least the DJ that the Gamma Kappa Delta--or whatever-- had got for their party wasn’t bad. The fact that Halloween was on a Saturday this year was a bonus too. She didn’t need to try to block out the party to try to sleep.

 

Felicity entertained the idea of maybe going next door, blowing off some steam with dancing and a drink. As she rose to go, the pile of textbooks on her desk caught her eye and put an immediate kibosh on that plan. If she didn’t want to spend all day tomorrow reading, she had to get more done tonight.

 

God, being responsible sucked sometimes.

 

Grabbing the top book from her stack, Felicity flopped into her overstuffed chair beneath the window. Over the noise of the music, she could hear her roommate’s poodle, Molly, barking at all the people walking past, along with the tree in the side yard hitting its branches against the window. All in all, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

 

The wind was really starting to pick up though, with how much the tree was hitting her window. Felicity didn’t think she had ever heard it that much before. Nor could she recall seeing anything in the weather about a storm coming. She turned in her seat, and almost fell off her chair with a startled noise when she saw that there was an actual person outside in the tree, tapping on the glass to get her attention.

 

“What the hell,” she asked, throwing the window open. She glared at him, a look she had perfected years ago that seemed to normally work on most bullies. Bullies were not tree-men though. Nor, generally, were bullies dressed in only pants and had the bodies of art studio models. Raggedy pants that had seen better days, sure, but aside from hair hanging in his eyes and a pair of shoes, there was nothing stopping Felicity from getting a view of a guy who could give Chris Evans as Captain America a run for his money.

 

“Your damn dog chased me up here,” he responded. He gestured down to the ground with the half empty bottle of beer in his hand before taking a long drink from it. 

 

Felicity spared a second to look down, and sure enough, Molly was on her hind legs, barking up the tree at her intruder.

 

“I can see how she’s so terrifying that you had to climb the tree to get away from her,” Felicity said. She crossed her arms and looked over her glasses at the man who was out on a limb.

 

“I was startled,” he protested slurring his words slightly. “I was hopping the fence to get back to the party after going on a beer run, and she came chasing after me.” He looked up at her, and Felicity was struck with how blue his eyes were beneath the mop of hair he had. “I’m Oliver,” he said. “Nice to meet you.” He glanced at the empty bottle in his hand before dropping it to the ground to hold out his hand in greeting. 

 

He had very nice arms.

 

“Felicity,” she responded automatically, not taking his hand. “She startled you?”

 

Oliver straddled the branch beneath him and let his legs dangle. “Have you ever been chased by a pissed off poodle,” he asked her. “One of my mom’s friends had one when I was a kid and that beast was evil. Spawn of satan, I swear. But this dog came with this woman everywhere. And I guess I pissed it off enough one day that it came running after me, wanting to sink its evil demon teeth into me.”

 

Felicity spun her chair around as Oliver continued to weave a story about how a poodle had chased him through the house, his best friend laughing too hard to stop and help, until finally the poodle had chased him right into the pool in the backyard.

 

“The damn thing stood there, growling, every time I tried to get out of the water,” he finished with a grin. “And so, ever since, I have been terrified of poodles.”

 

“It’s a strictly poodle fear then,” she asked Oliver, turning in her seat to get comfortable. After a moment, she spun the chair to face the window and set her arms on the sill. “Or does it encompass all dogs?”

 

Somehow that launched Oliver into another story and before Felicity knew it, the sun had set. With a small start, she realized that not only had seen been talking with a man in a tree for the last hour and a half, but that she had actually forgotten that he didn’t have on a shirt. 

 

Generally speaking, she didn’t think that a half naked guy in a tree outside of your window was something that was easily forgotten. But when said guy has sobered up enough to hold amazingly in depth conversations about how Greek deities were personifications of what the people themselves found value in, and how messed up it was that the guy who brought fire to the world was punished instead of celebrated, it apparently was an easy thing to not keep track of.

 

“I think Molly’s asleep now,” Felicity pointed out after she had caught her breath. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so hard that she had trouble breathing. At least not since she had broken up with Coop. “You could probably climb down if you want.”

 

“Trying to get rid of me?” 

 

“I didn’t want to assume you wanted to spend all night in a tree talking with me.” Felicity quickly looked past him towards the frat house before pulling her attention back from it. “Not when you do have a party to go to.” She hoped he didn’t think that she was trying to get rid of him. Not when she was actually enjoying his company.

 

In the orange and purple strobes from the party, Oliver’s smile took on impish look. He seemed like he was planning something. For a reason she couldn’t quite put a finger on-- the holiday or just a feeling of trust she felt with him-- she found herself willing to go along with whatever plan he was brewing up in that moment. 

 

“What are your plans for the night,” he asked, edging his way closer to her window. 

 

Felicity picked up her calculus book from where he had fallen to the floor. “This, honestly.”

 

“You’re going to do homework on a Saturday night?” She nodded and suddenly felt pinned by his stare. “On a Saturday night that’s Halloween?” 

 

Oliver looked at her as though he was disappointed in her choices. It was strange to feel as though the opinion of a man she had just met mattered to her, even more so when it was disappointment for making a responsible choice.

 

“This is an official Oliver Queen invitation to come next door and celebrate Halloween.”

 

Oliver Queen. Why did that name sound familiar? She had just been looking at Queen Consolidated for a position after graduation, so maybe that was it. “I don’t have a costume,” she told him. 

 

“So be Jane. Just wear what you have on.”

 

Felicity glanced down at her skirt, leggings and sweater before looking back up at Oliver. “I don’t think this will work for Jane Austen.”

 

“No, I mean…” He grabbed at one of the branches above him and stood carefully, balancing easily now that he had sobered up. Holding out a hand to touch the screen, he said “Me, Tarzan. You, Jane.” 

 

“I thought you were just ‘drunk college frat boy who lost his shirt’.”

 

“It might have started like that, yeah,” Oliver admitted sheepishly. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “Then a chick in a Sexy Cat costume yelled ‘hey Tarzan’ at me, and I liked better.”

 

Felicity chewed on her lower lip. Oliver did have a point in that it was Saturday night, and Halloween, and she was indoors studying. She had never done anything like that the previous years. Why should her being single stop her from enjoying life? 

 

“Alright,” she nodded, standing up. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

 

“Great. I’ll uh…” Oliver stared down at the ground. “I’ll figure out a way down. Aside from falling. That hopefully won’t wake up the poodle.” A sigh that was loud enough for Felicity to hear from her door blew his hair back into his face. 

 

“Cut through here.” She reached up into the window frame and tried to pop the screen out. With Oliver’s help to keep it from falling out the other side, they were able to pull it into Felicity’s room, with Oliver following behind a moment later. 

 

“Thanks,” he told her, shoving the screen back in. “Lot easier than falling out of the tree.” Oliver turned and flashed her a genuine smile. “ Ready to party, Jane?”

 

“Let’s go, Tarzan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! A trick and a treat, just in time for Halloween
> 
> If you're curious about the two prompts that I received, they were as follows:
> 
> Trick: “I swear I just saw someone… or something looking in my window.”
> 
> Treat: A dog chased me up a tree when I tried to knock on the door.


End file.
